


Skipping Stones

by thirty2flavors



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Dimension Cannon, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 02:36:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3340442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirty2flavors/pseuds/thirty2flavors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Travelling between worlds to find the Doctor, Rose meets only one person who knows her by name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skipping Stones

The Dimension Cannon takes a liking to certain people.

Not, Rose thinks grudgingly, the one person she _wishes_ it would take a liking to, but world after world brings face after face and Rose begins to notice the repeats. Most of the faces she can’t put a name to. She sees the same unnamed ginger woman dozens of times.

Sometimes, though, they’re people she knows. She sees Sarah Jane, once or twice. Sometimes she sees faces she’s long since buried in her mind — there’s Jimmy Stone once, taking a long drag on a cigarette, and there’s Shareen, older than Rose has ever known her. Once, in one of the countless wrong Londons she walks through, she sees herself. She watches, transfixed, as a parallel Rose Tyler with dark roots and cheap clothes crosses the street with a little boy who calls her “Mum”. That jump makes her dizzy, and Rose ducks into an alleyway in the would-be Powell Estate, breathing hard and wondering who the boy’s father is.

None of the people she meets recognize _her_ , of course. They couldn’t possibly — she skips from world to world like a stone over water, never staying in one place for long. Most times, she can tell right away that it’s wrong; the London skyline is different, or there are zeppelins, or the technology is wrong -- too advanced or too immature. Some of the worlds are devastated, war-torn cityscapes she can’t recognize as her home. Occasionally, the Cannon gets it _very_ wrong, and she finds herself hundreds of years in the future or the past. Sometimes, Rose doesn’t think it’s Earth at all.

In other circumstances, she thinks it might be nice, glimpsing foreign time lines again. But she has a job to do and a Doctor to find, and there will be time for sightseeing later. She stares at the sky as she waits for the next jump, watching the stars flicker out.

\--

The first time someone recognizes her, it’s far in the future.

She’s not even sure it’s London. The architecture is similar, but the technology is so advanced it’s hard to know. Rose looks up to orientate herself and finds the underside of a mid-air highway. The cars remind her of New New York, and it makes her heart hurt.

And then a voice behind her speaks, and Rose nearly jumps out of her skin.

“Well, that’s quite an entrance,” the woman says. “Not bad for twenty-first century tech.”

Rose spins around quickly, a part of her wishing she’d brought a gun and a second part of her hating herself for even thinking it. The speaker is a woman, maybe in her late thirties, with curly blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. She’s smiling, but Rose doesn’t smile back.

“You’re way off course, though,” the woman continues. “Sorry.”

Rose narrows her eyes. “Who are you?”

The woman looks surprised. Her eyebrows shoot up on her forehead and her smile turns apologetic, but she laughs as though at her own private joke. “Professor River Song.” She extends a hand, but Rose is too wary to take it. River doesn’t seem to mind. She looks down at her watch and frowns. “I’ve got to go,” she says, stepping past Rose towards the pavement. “I’m meeting someone.” And then she does the strangest thing of all. She pauses for just a moment at the end of the alley, and in a serious voice she says, “Good luck, Rose.”

“Hold on,” Rose demands, “how do you know my name?” It’s rule number one: stay anonymous. The wrong word, in the wrong place--

River disappears into the bustle of the alien street without answering, and before Rose can follow, the Dimension Cannon tugs her back.

\--

The next time she meets River, Rose saves her life.

It happens in an instant. The jump brings her to a countryside, and the only person in sight is River, leaning back against the wall of a church. River looks up in surprise at the flash accompanying Rose’s entrance, and Rose barely has time to recognize the woman before she spots the crack in the stone gargoyle perched above River’s head. Rose tackles her without a second thought, and the gargoyle lands with a harmless thud on the grass.

Afterwards, Rose is the first to climb to her feet. “You all right, Professor Song?” she asks, and this time River stares at her in surprise.

“‘Professor Song’?” she repeats.

She says it with enough incredulity that Rose begins to doubt herself. Parallel worlds, Rose thinks, and curses herself. “Sorry,” she says, dusting off her blue jacket and feeling daft. “Thought you were someone I met the other day.”

River studies her so intently that Rose folds her arms, feeling protective. River’s eyes go wide, and then she shakes her head. “One day,” she says, “I’m going to meet someone in the right order.” Almost as an afterthought, she says, “I never expected to meet you at all.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’ve got to keep a very good diary.”

Impatience begins to overtake Rose’s curiosity. She has too many things to do to waste time riddling out River’s words. “Do you know me or not?”

“It’s 1923,” she explains with a bit of a smirk. “You don’t look like a local girl.”

Rose raises her eyebrows. “Neither do you.”

River smiles evasively. “Fair point. So what brings you here?”

“I’m looking for a friend,” is all Rose says. There’s no use describing him; the time is wrong, anyway. Her next jump will be soon.

“Ah,” says River, almost knowingly.

“You?”

“Waiting for a friend,” River says. “He’s late a lot.” She winks.

“Yeah?” Rose studies the sky, hoping for a flash of blue, and wishes impatiently for the next jump. “I got sick of waiting.”

River grins. “Good for you.”

\--

The third time she meets River, Rose is about ready to cry.

“Rose!” River exclaims, pleasantly surprised by the woman’s abrupt appearance on the pavement.

But the recognition in River’s smile is a cold comfort when Rose knows she’s got it wrong again. Last jump, she’d been too early. It was the right universe, and she was a sliver too early. It was the closest she’s been, but it wasn’t close enough, and now she’s standing on the pavement in a futuristic maybe-London with a woman she’s only met twice. She looks at River and opens her mouth to speak but takes a deep, rattling breath instead and sits down on the curb.

“Rose?” River repeats, gentle this time. “Are you all right?”

“’M fine,” Rose mumbles, but that’s a lie. It feels like the closer she gets, the more unbearable the wait becomes. Every jump is another failure, and Rose is beginning to wonder if she’ll ever get there at all. Maybe she’ll spend the rest of her life traveling through world after world, wading through a sea of familiar strangers until she drowns. She misses the Doctor so badly it aches, her need to see him again reaching a fever pitch. She wants to wrap her arms around him and never let go, darkness be damned.

River takes a seat beside her, looking sympathetic. She’s a bit older than before, and her hair is darker Rose has ever seen it, more brown than blonde. “Still looking for that friend?”

Rose nods. Her throat feels thick and she doesn’t trust herself to speak.

“Must be some friend,” River reasons. “You’ve been looking for a while.”

“Yeah,” says Rose. She stares down at her boots and thinks of dirty converse and almost smiles. “He is.”

“You’ll find him, Rose,” River says, with an enviable surety. “Trust me.”

Rose wraps her arms around herself and nods again. She doesn’t want to cry now, in front of a woman she doesn’t know. Ready to deflect the conversation, she says, “What about you? That friend of yours ever show up?”

River looks pleased with herself. “Oh, he always comes when I call. …Eventually.”

Rose tries to smile back but doesn’t quite have the energy. She ought to be preparing for the next jump, but the perpetual disappointment is exhausting and she can’t bring herself to stand up.

Beside her, River is quiet for some time. “I should go,” she says eventually, though she makes no move to get up. “I’ve got a date at the library tomorrow.”

“A library?” This time, Rose does smile. “Sounds like some of the dates I’ve been on.”

“I’ll bet.” River stands up, regarding Rose contemplatively. Then she says, “Let me see that transporter of yours. Maybe I can help.”

Rose hesitates. Slowly, she rises to her feet and pulls the disc out of her pocket but holds it close. River studies it from where she stands, but makes no move to touch it.

“I was wondering,” River explains as she searches for something in her pockets, “why I was given this.” She shrugs. “Maybe this is why. Maybe it’s to help you.”

Rose is about to ask what she means, but then River pulls something out of her jacket that makes Rose’s mouth go dry and all she can do is gape like a fish.

“Send my love when you get there,” says River, and she winks.

Rose finally finds her voice. “Oh my God,” she begins, “that’s–“

But River points the sonic screwdriver at the gadget in Rose’s hand, and the sound of the familiar _whirr_ sends Rose to yet another universe.

\--

Rose lands in the middle of present-day London with a question still on her lips and her heart drumming in her chest. Her TARDIS key is warm in her pocket, but something feels wrong. There’s a cluster of UNIT vehicles and an ambulance just ahead, and with a sudden flood of adrenaline, Rose races down the street.

“What happened? What did they find?” Rose skids to a halt, breathing hard, trying to make sense of the scene. She spins around to face the redheaded woman she’s seen so many times. “Sorry, did they find someone?”

* * *


End file.
